


Yuletide

by Tintentrinkerin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tintentrinkerin/pseuds/Tintentrinkerin
Summary: Sam and Dean visit a Christmas Market with Jack.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jack Kline/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Wincest, Winkline
Kudos: 15





	Yuletide

Sam would later deny he had anything to do what happened to Jack when they went out to show him Lebanon’s christmas market. 

It has snowed recently, and it promised to be a white Christmas this year. The decorations in the bunker were up already, Jack and Dean had baked too many cookies for three people to eat ever, which is why Jack donated around 4 lbs to a local charity organisation. He had also baked cookies for dogs and donated them to the animal shelter. He seemed to love Christmas, while the Winchesters didn’t celebrate much at any time of the year, given their hunter lifestyle. This year it was peaceful though.

Neither Sam nor Dean were surprised when Jack asked to go to the Christmas market with him. Both said yes. And later on, in a tiny  whiskey delirium Dean wanted to take bets with Sam which one Jack would kiss under a mistletoe. Sam called him an idiot and wished, deep inside, Jack would choose him.

The next day, there were indeed several mistletoe hung up over random doors all around the bunker and Sam knew, it was Dean fucking with him and Jack. He tried to argue with Dean but all he did was kissing Sam under every mistletoe whenever they crossed one. Dean didn’t seem to care at least one bit that Jack saw them on several occasions.

And now they’re here. The air is crisp and tiny little snowflakes float in a gentle breeze. Jack is all dressed up with a red bobble hat, red gloves and a scarf. He knitted all of it on his own and he looks just adorable. His nose is pink from the cold and he burns his tongue on the mulled wine Dean and Sam allowed him to drink. He’s already full because he ate three slices of fruit loaf and apple pie. Dean has accompanied him on the apple pie of course, while Sam bought Christmas presents for his brother and Jack. 

Jack takes another sip but he looks a little miserable. 

Dean laughs in his mug. 

“My tongue hurtph”, Jack says, looking a bit sad.

Sam also has to smile about it. 

“Well, it’s hot, you could’ve known that beforehand.”

Dean is happy with his third mug of Citrus Whisky Punch and Sam himself sticks with Hot Chocolate (with a lot of Rum in it). Actually Sam doesn’t want to get tipsy but the cold and the delicious stuff the beverage booths make him drink more than usual. 

“Let’s hope you won’t need your tongue for something serious today”, Dean says and gets a nudge from Sam. And a very emphatic kick.

“What do you mean?”, Jack asks and blows in his mug.

His lips do look good, though, Sam thinks. They’re full and pink and sometimes Sam thinks about it. The same way Dean does, how he admitted recently. Sam isn’t the jealous type, they both have the hots for Jack, it could be worse. 

Dean smirks and gets another kick. This time Sam tries to interfere before Dean says any more stupid shit in front of the kid.

“He means, when you burnt your tongue, it will hurt. With spicy food for example.”

Jack looks at him with big blue puppy eyes. 

“But Dean wanted to make a curry later!” he exclaims.

“The world is tough, kiddo”, Dean says and rubs his leg. 

Gladly Jack’s indignation doesn’t last long and he finishes his mug of mulled wine. 

“Can I have another one?”, he asks. Puppy eyed again. 

Sam sighs. “Okay, but only one more.”

Jack drinks four mugs by the end of their trip. They’re all a little too drunk, rocking against each other when they walk home. It has gotten dark already and the music of the market fades the farer they go. 

Dean is his usual whisky drunk, loud and outgoing, Sam tries to hide it and doesn’t dare to say anything. And Jack is the cutest type of drunk Sam has ever experienced. He’s giggling a lot, the Winchesters have him in their midst. Sam just wants to know he’s close and won’t slip and fall, but Dean has his hand on Jack’s butt and no one seems to care. 

They pass some closed shops and there’s couples going home, too. Jack wishes everyone a Merry Fucking Christmas, what makes Dean laugh his dirty drunk neigh. Sam is a bit embarrassed and tells Jack way too loud it’s not nice to say the “F” word. Which makes Jack reply “But you and Dean say it all the time!!”

Which is right and Sam has no foundation to argue otherwise. That he’s drunk doesn’t help him have a serious conversation anyway.

When they reach the bunker, Sam notices that Dean must’ve also pinned a mistletoe over the entrance door. That’s why he just makes a move and pulls Dean close, both of them standing under it now. He hisses “come on, mistletoe is mistletoe.”

Dean laughs and hugs Sam, of course he does, and kisses him. It’s not an innocent kiss after all, more a show off for poor Jack. When Dean’s about to fumble his way under Sam’s jacket, he pulls away. 

“Why do you kiss under mistletoes?”, Jack asks, slurry from the wine. His eyes are big and glassy, his lips wet and plump.

“I mean they’re parasites and they’re also poisonous.”

“Come on, Jack. It’s just an old custom”, Dean babbles. 

Sam interferes. “Actually the roots of this custom to swear oaths of peace date back to the iron ages and the so called kissing bough made of mistletoe became popular during the Tudor era in Great Britain, and-”

“Shut up, Sammy, no lectures today.”

“Actually, you have to kiss as many times as the mistletoe has berries. You have to pick each single one of them and kiss the lady until there’s no more berries left”, Sam continues, ignoring Dean’s objection.

“ **_Actually_ ** people just need an excuse to kiss people when they’re too chicken to do it under normal circumstances”, Dean concludes, seemingly proud to add something to the mistletoe mystery.

Jack doesn’t seem all too impressed still.

“Is that why the bunker is full of mistletoe boughs?”, he asks, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t dare to kiss each other?”

Sam heaves and Dean laughs. 

“You shut up or I’ll give you another kick”, Sam hisses towards his brother.

But sometimes Dean has a “I don’t give a fuck, Sammy” attitude and says “No, kiddo, this is not about  _ us _ .”

It’s visible Jack is trying to process the information, furrowing his brows and biting his lip. 

“But there’s only you two and me living in the bunker, why would you---”

You can see the penny dropping. And Jack just giggles and approaches them, squeezing between the brothers. He looks at them and Sam’s mouth goes dry, while Dean smirks. 

“Gotcha?”, he asks.

Instead of answering, Jack raises on tiptoes and kisses Dean on the mouth. There’s a short gasp, before Dean wraps his hands around Jack’s waist, lifts him up and kisses him like he hasn’t kissed Sam in a whole while. 

Jack wants to be let down very soon, turns to Sam, tiptoes and kisses him too. Sam tastes fruit and wine and crispy air. He hugs him too, holds Jack close and when Jack’s soft, silky tongue meets his, he moans silently. 

Before Sam loses it right here in front of his home, he rather pulls away, with a pounding heart and a very light head. Dean hugs them both, kisses Jack’s hair. Sam does too. Both focus on Jack, there’s nothing else they want now.

Jack sighs, then giggles.

“Can we do that again? Inside? Will you just do it when there’s a mistletoe?”

Sam laughs in relief. 

“They’re evergreens.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
